Just as the thrashing animal stamped its hooves in the spot where his head had been, Toby was wrenched out of the way. A firm, claw–like hand clamped over his mouth to stop him from calling out. As suddenly as it appeared, the stag was reigned in and pulled away by its keeper, who had now regained control.
‘You are safe, brother,’ whispered a girl’s voice.
Toby looked up. He guessed she was about fifteen. Her skin was laced with soft, snow-white feathers. Removing her hand from his mouth, she revealed yellow, gnarled fingers. Her fingernails were blackened and sharp like hooked talons. But other than those monstrous deformities, the rest of her was as enchanting as a mythical princess.
‘Remember, it is just an illusion,’ she soothed, and the talons on one hand melted away in a foggy vap
